


Toy Soldiers

by eerian_sadow



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Destruction, Gen, Mentions of Character Death, Non-graphic character death, War, community: competition_fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-08
Updated: 2011-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-13 01:14:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2131512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eerian_sadow/pseuds/eerian_sadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He looks outside and can only see how far they've fallen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Toy Soldiers

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Sept. 15, 2011 round at [](http://competition-fun.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://competition-fun.livejournal.com/)**competition_fun** , and the first place winner of that round! :D

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/eerian_sadow/pic/000tkr5h/)

Title: Toy Soldiers  
Rating: PG  
Verse: G1  
Genre: angst  
Characters: Alpha Trion  
Warnings: none  
Other Notes: Written for the Sept. 15, 2011 round at [](http://competition-fun.livejournal.com/profile)[**competition_fun**](http://competition-fun.livejournal.com/), and the first place winner of that round! :D

  
One by one they came, rallied by the calls of charismatic leaders.

One by one, they fell and died.

One death at a time, Cybertron crumbled to pieces.

One by one, and finally all could see how far their race had fallen.

When he was young, so long ago that it was an entirely different lifetime now, they had fought a war with meaning and purpose. They had fought to free themselves from slavery, to remove the shackles that bound them to their organic overlords and give them the ability to walk on their own and think for themselves. They had fought to find their own way and to be able to live free of injustice, greed and control.

He wished that he had not lived to see how far they had fallen from that lofty goal.

Cybertron was free to walk its own path and make its own choices, but those choices had led them right back into the old ways. Mechs who had been given power, who were trusted to make decisions that were in the best interest of all of Cybertron and not just those with the deepest credit vaults, abused that power. Mechs who should have championed those smaller or weaker than themselves instead bullied and pushed them further down. Mechs who should be respected for the sacrifices they made for the good of all were hated and derided—and outright feared in many cities.

The glorious golden age that he and his batch-mates had fought so desperately to create had crumbled to nothing more than tarnished dust at his feet. He wondered what Beta would say, if she could see their descendants now.

He wondered if she would ache, as he did, as they fell.

He watched in sorrowful silence as the battle raged on outside their city. He watched as more and more of his people fell, dying for nothing but the words of a madmech and the anger of people who had been oppressed for too long. They had no beliefs that he could see, no goals that he could understand, beyond simply dismantling the government that had pressed them down. And the defenders, of course, simply fought to keep their way of life—though he wondered how many of them would stop if they knew all of what had gone on before.

He watched, and his spark broke a bit more with each body that fell to the ground.

He refused to tear his gaze away from the scene, though. His descendants at least deserved to have the end of their existence catalogued as well as their beginning. He would cross reference each face, each frame and each color scheme until he had an identity to match them and he would record them. They would not all be famous like Megatron, but none would be forgotten if he could help it.

And the task would give him something to focus on, as his hope crumbled and his belief that things could still be worked out died a slow death.


End file.
